This grey cat sweeps its tail and pounces on a fly.
Misses and leaps trying to follow.
Probably my favourite cat expression is the pre-attack face.
The eyes seem to change shape and the elastic body
just quivers with pent up motion that will be,
probably, unleashed at any moment.
When we were kids there were these plastic thingsthat resembled animals and cartoon characters.
They came on springy poles and there was a sucker
that you had to wet with spit.
You'd push them down and seal a vacuum. Then wait,
wait for the spit to dry which would causethe vacuum to break then
leap like a salmon, dig paws into the rug hangingfrom the washing line. The rugs starts swaying
and the cat holds on, arches its neck trying
to fathom what's going on, hanging
upside down like a child on a tyre swing sliding
along the cable picking up speed.